The Best Possible Outcome
by Mimiminaj
Summary: Derek comes back to Beacon Hills for a single night. After stopping Peter, he had planned to sneak away and board his plane and never look back. At 2 a.m. Stiles showed up. Takes place three months after the season three midseason finale.


In a flash of fangs, teeth, and blood, everything was over in a day. Peter, to the surprise of no one, launched a diabolical scheme against Scott. For the purpose of, again, _to the surprise of no one_, become an alpha. A quick call to Derek had him rushing back to Beacon Hills.

He had found them, all tied up and bloody, just before Peter was about to make the fatal blow to Scott.

He never got the chance. For the second time, Derek took his Uncle's life. Everybody was to beat up/jacked up on adrenaline to notice him slip away afterward. He had done his duty. He had stopped Peter, the monster he felt he had a hand in creating, from killing any more innocent people.

He had thought nobody had seen him slip away from the pack. He was wrong.

…

Derek ignored the sound of his loft door opening. He briefly wondered what he did to deserve a two in the morning visit from Stiles, but he figured he's done so much bad shit in his life that karma was just continuing to catch up with him. He figured he'd deserved a tiny break, what with saving the kid's life and all, but he wasn't going to say he was surprised at his misfortune.

Beacon Hills had a knack for never letting Derek catch a break. Why should he be able to this time, then?

The soft click of the loft door echoed across the dimly lit room. Derek waited, refusing to speak first.

"You know," Stiles began, voice even, quiet, _determined_. "You really do bring the brooding thing on yourself. You realize you're just standing there, looking at that, admittedly impressive, window. At two in the morning. What are you even thinking about? Death? The meaning of life? You're probably blaming yourself for something right now, aren't you?"

"Damn you're good." Derek kept his tone even too. His eyes followed a random car as it headed down Main Street and parked at Grand-Tso's Family Buffet. "I actually _am_ blaming myself for something right now. I'm thinking - why the hell did I not lock the damn door."

Stiles laughter was soft, but it was laughter nonetheless. Derek couldn't remember the last time he truly laughed.

"You know, nobody else in Beacon Hills can banter quite like you can. It's refreshing really."

A few seconds went by. Once Derek realized Stiles wasn't going to offer any more info (_like why the hell he was at the loft at two in the morning_), he spoke up.

"Go home, Stiles. We both know it was a rough day."

Stiles, of course, completely ignored him.

"I didn't think you'd still be here."

He said it much more quietly this time. Quiet enough, had Derek not had extremely gifted hearing abilities, that he would have completely missed it.

"My flight leaves at ten this morning."

"And then what's your plan? Going to go hide yourself away again? Run from your problems?"

"Why do you care? And who says I'm running _from_ anything. That implies that I have something to be afraid of."

"I'm aware. And the answer to that is _the last ten years of your life_."

Derek turns then, looks directly at Stiles. Stiles is showered and patched up. Only a light bruise covers his right eye, and a few cuts liter his left check. His hair is mused as if he was tossing and turning in bed, which would not surprise Derek at all.

"Again, is that really running _from_? What if I'm running _to _something? Trying to find someplace better. Someplace…. less fucked up."

Stiles' eyes bore into him, almost enough to make him flinch back. He can see the clear 'bullshit' that runs through the teenager's head.

"That's good, and probably partly true, if you look at it one way. But really, let's be serious Derek. You're just flat out running. You don't know what the hell you're doing."

He stares at him a bit. Stiles' heart picks up the slightest, and Derek turns away.

"You're smart Stiles. Smarter than I ever was. You'll survive this place way better than I did. You should go."

"I'll go when I've said and done what I've come to say and do."

"Oh, see here I was thinking you just wanted to come and make sure I knew how much of a fuck up I was. Which, you did, so please. Just go."

Stiles made a very frustrated groan and took a step, his first since entering the loft, towards Derek.

"First off, that was far from my intentions. The only person who thinks you're a fuck up in this entire world is you. I didn't come here to bring you down, I came here to bring you up….. which yes sounds ridiculously stupid but oh well. You get the point."

"No, I don't. And I don't need you telling me it'll be okay, or it get's better, or whatever. You know the world we live in. So don't shower me with massive amounts of optimistic bullshit. Now get out of my damn apartment Stiles before I personally throw you out."

Stiles just stood there, mouth set in a firm line.

"No."

"No?" Derek repeats, eyebrows arching up.

"Now that Peter is gone, and you literally have no ties to this place, were you planning on ever coming back? Were you planning on saying goodbye to _anybody_? Or was this the end. You take your ten o'clock flight and never look back."

"There is nothing here for me, Stiles! Scott's the alpha now, and he's slowly building up a stable pack. One that I do not belong in."

"Because you choose to not belong, Derek! You think he won't accept you, but you're wrong. Everyone wants you to stay. I don't understand why you can't see that."

"Why are you even here, Stiles? I haven't talked to you in over three months. And you never exactly liked me before I left. Shouldn't you be happy I'm leaving?"

"I don't know, you sort of did just _save my life_ today. And not for the first time either."

"You've saved my life too, don't make me out to be better than I am."

"Oh my god can you not hear yourself? Seriously, something is wrong with you. I care, okay? It hurts me, as a decent person, to see another decent person hurting."

"Fuck, just stop talking. This isn't some Disney movie. Nothing is that black and white_. You don't care_."

Stiles splutters to a stop. Neither of them had realized it, but they had both been migrating towards each other. Only a few feet stand between them. Derek relaxes slightly in the pause of the argument, leaning back into the counter of the center island.

"The word Disney sounds very weird coming out of your mouth," Stiles murmurs, eyes glancing out the window. "And you know nothing about what I care about."

Derek crosses his arms around his chest and gives Stiles an unimpressed stare.

"How about your mad devotion to your dad? How about your refusal to hurt or betray Scott? How about literally every single one of your friends in your pack? Lydia? Allison? Issac? I know who you care about Stiles, and those people aren't me."

Stiles gives an indignant grunt. "That was all very flattering, but how the hell would you know if I cared or not, since this is what you seem to be focusing on."

"I'm focusing on it because I'm trying to figure out what I need to say to get you to leave. And you've told me, multiple times, that you hated my existence. In fact," a grim expression crosses his face. "How about just a few months ago? In the hospital? When you pretty much rubbed it in my face that I've now slept with two killers!"

Derek seemed to go from zero to furious in an instant. His whole body went rigid and he flung himself away from Stiles, over to the door, and wretched it open.

"Get the fuck out," he murmured through clenched teeth. He watched as Stiles turned to him, but quickly looked away when he saw the water in his eyes.

"My dad was kidnapped," he whispered. "It's not an excuse, and it certainty doesn't make what I said any less hurtful, but…I wasn't in my right mind. I'm so sorry for that. You need to know that I don't blame you for any of it. Nobody knew."

Silence hung between them as Derek remained by the loft door, and Stiles remained by the counter.

"I just want to be alone Stiles."

"You don't have to be."

Derek chuckled, a merciless, humorless chuckle that sounded like nails on a chalkboard as it crawled across the room.

"I do. I really do. I think I understand now that I shouldn't be with….what the fuck? I don't know why I'm telling you any of this. Leave, Stiles. I really will throw you out soon. I know you don't think I have it in me, but, at this point, I think I do."

"I was at a party the other day…"

Derek rolled his eyes and growled.. For the first time during this impromptu late night (really more like early morning) visit, Stiles looked apprehensive. Derek was getting more and more frustrated that this boy refused to leave.

"And?" Derek gritted out.

Stiles looked up but then quickly looked away. His checks blossomed a rosy color. Derek told himself he didn't notice.

"And…I was making out with this girl. But the thing is, I knew she had already had a girlfriend. So I couldn't understand if she was attracted to boys or to girls, so I asked if she was attracted to girls. She answered yes and quickly asked if I was. I, of course, answered yes. And than I asked if she was attracted to boys. She answered, again, yes."

"I really don't see where this is going, Stiles. It's 2:30 in the morning."

"Hold on, I'm almost there. So she of course countered my question with the same one: am I attracted to guys. And…"

Derek rose an eyebrow. Stiles seemed to be struggling with the words, which was a truly rare occasion.

"And you said yes, okay, great, I can't deal with your identity crisis right now Stiles. I think you should just – "

"And I thought of you!"

Derek snapped his mouth shut and perked up his ears. He tilted his head to the side.

"I thought of you for the next few weeks, pretty much until you came back yesterday. When you showed up all angsty, hurt and _heroic_. I thought of you. _Only_ you."

Stiles looked up and locked gazes with Derek. He winced when he saw the shocked expression Derek didn't even attempt to hide.

As before, Derek went from zero to 100 in seconds. He quickly balled his hands into fists and growled.

"What?! I don't under- what? Are you seriously saying what I think you're saying? Just…what? No. Get out Stiles."

Stiles whole body deflated. His head sagged a bit and he nodded slowly. Derek watched the boy (because that was what he was_, just a boy_) scan the room one last time before seemingly giving up.

He stopped beside Derek on his way out. Derek watched him steadily, refusing to believe Stiles, _Stiles_, had any interest in him.

"Just so we're clear," Stiles murmured. His eyes shot to the ground in an uncharacteristic display of shyness and fear. "This is because you're not…you're…like woman."

"You're like woman?" Derek repeated.

"I mean, this rejection is because you just couldn't actually be with…somebody like me."

"If you mean a guy, than no. That's not the problem. The problem –"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, as Stiles whole body seemed to perk up again. A buzzing energy seemed to course through him as he slammed the loft door closed again.

"Good. Than this is your trust issues and your 'I don't deserve nice things' issues. I can work with those."

For a split second, Derek stood there dumbfounded. The glare that soon followed indicated he was over being shocked.

Derek reached for the door's handle, but Stiles was too quick. He shot his hand out and pushed Derek's away. It was the first time they had touched, and with Derek's newfound information, he quickly pulled away.

"Stiles, I don't – "

"I'm loyal."

"What?"

"I'm loyal. You said it yourself. I fight for the people I care about. I'm trustworthy, too. I've never stabbed a single one of my friends in the back. I've never stabbed _you_ in the back. "

Derek's eyes widened and he stepped back.

"I love werewolves. Sure there are times when I curse their existence in my life, but I truly love them because I understand that they are people, Derek. They are people first."

Derek started shaking his head. To an outsider, it might have looked very comical. This twenty four year old shaking his head like a kindergartner.

"Obviously I'm not any kind of evil being. We all know I'm as human as they get. I don't murder people."

"So stop shaking your head and realize that I'm here. I know I'm extremely annoying sometimes. I know I never shut up and generally piss you off when I can. And I know that next to you I look like a backstreet hooker who's half high on drugs and half high on sex, but I don't care. Because you can trust me, Derek. I'm not lying to you. This isn't some game. I don't have an ulterior agenda. I. Just. Want. You."

Stiles had backed him up against the window, with Derek's back against the glass and an entirely unreadable expression on his face.

Stiles waited for Derek to say something. After pretty much spilling his soul, he was ready for some kind of feedback. He watched Derek, and after a minute of silence he groaned.

"Fine. Stay inside your bubble of self-hate. If you can't see what's right – what?" Stiles snapped his mouth shut. Derek had just said something. He was pretty sure he had just said something.

"What did you just say?"

"I said," Derek began hesitantly. "That I never understood why you always thought you were unattractive."

Stiles blinked twice before a warm smile spread across his face.

"Is that your cavemen way of telling me you think I'm attractive?"

Derek gulped before turning to glare out the window. After a few seconds, he nodded. Stiles slowly raised a hand, and both pairs of eyes followed the movement. He laid a single hand on Derek's biceps, squeezing it to get the older man's attention.

"Stiles. You're 17. I'm 23. Not only is that illegal, but I would be taking advantage of you in every single way."

"How? I'm the one who came to you with this. I'm telling you, right now, that this is my idea."

"Define idea."

Stiles sucked in a big breath before glaring at Derek. "I can't believe you're making me say all of this. Fine. Whatever. This _idea_ is for us to be in an actual relationship. You know, where I spend shit loads of time here and you at my place. Where I get you to laugh and smile and you do the same. I want you to have somebody you can trust, completely."

Derek waited a beat before asking, "you didn't say you expected the same? You didn't say you wanted somebody to trust."

Stiles laughed, truly laughed, and his face split into a grin. Derek was having a hard time looking at the beauty of it.

"That's because it was a given, Derek. When you love, you love like crazy. I see how you were with Cora. How you were with Boyd, Erica and Isaac. You would have died for them. If you choose me, if you let me in, I won't have to worry. I'll know you have my back. It's just getting you to believe that I'll have yours that's going to be hard."

He searched Stiles eyes for something, anything that would convince himself that Stiles was lying. His heartbeat hadn't murmured once, nor had his face faltered.

"I don't deserve you, Stiles."

He was expecting Stiles face to fall. It did the opposite. His smile widened.

"I was prepared for that. Besides the point of _yes you completely deserve me_, I think I deserve you. If you don't want to do this for yourself, do it for me. I've been like, human of the year over here, and I deserve something for it. I chose you."

Derek gave him a weak smile, hand actually moving off the counter and settling on Stiles hip. Stiles let out a shaky gasp upon feeling the welcoming touch. Unfortunately, as soon as Stiles tensed, Derek pulled away.

"Sorry," Stiles murmured, "it's just that that was a hundred shades of awesome and I wasn't ready for it. I don't think somebody could even get ready for it. You have a magical touch, Derek Hale."

Stiles looked back up to Derek. His brow furrowed in confusion and fear.

"Hey, no, why do you have that sad smile on? You shouldn't be aloud to do that. That looks like a goodbye. Why does that look like a goodbye? _How do you get your face to look like an apologetic goodbye?"_

"Stiles, I can't be the – "

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Just kiss me. If it's bad, than fine. I'll leave without saying another word. You can get on your plane and never look back. But if it's – ugh!"

Derek cut him off, swooping down and brushing his lips against Stiles. He may have held it there for a second, but it was gone before either could really register it. Derek pulled away, and Stiles sighed.

"Umm," Stiles began to say, before, yet again, Derek silenced him with his mouth. This time, Derek stayed. He put a hand on Stiles waist and one on his neck, tilting the teen's face up to better angle his lips. Derek wasted no time slipping his tongue into Stiles mouth, causing the inexperienced boy to groan.

When Stiles tongue touched Derek's, all bets were off. He literally sagged into the older man, gripping any part of Derek he could get his hands on for support.

Before Stiles knew it, two hands were under his thighs and literally picking him up. He felt himself be twirled around till his ass was placed on the counter. Derek immediately positioned himself between Stiles legs. Stiles, unashamedly, stretched them open farther.

He broke away from Stiles mouth to pepper little licks down Stiles neck, ending on just where his pulse point was. When Derek nipped at it, Stiles simply craned his neck back.

"Derek," Stiles breathed out, every cell of his body feeling like he was on fire.

"Derek?" He repeated, confused. The fire was gone. There was no body between his legs. "Why are you over there?"

Derek was back by the window, huffing like he had just ran ten miles. He was turned away, and when the moonlight caught the hand on Derek's face, he could see claws.

"Hey," Stiles murmured, pushing off the counter and joining Derek. He slotted himself between the window and the werewolf, and he placed both his hands on either side of Derek's face. He pulled up, forcing their eyes to meet.

"You don't need to be ashamed of this. I think we both know that I think lycanthropy is amazing. And I totally know werewolves can make out without actually wolfing-out, I don't think anybody will ever forget the days of Scott and Allison."

"It was just…wow."

"Oh my god wow, go me. Is this going to be a thing though? Are you going to be one of those premature ejaculators? Because - "

"Stiles!" Derek groaned, face finally returning to normal.

"Hey, you're dating me. I don't have a mouth filter. Like, literally, you can put anything you want in there."

Derek groaned again, grabbing Stiles and hauling him in for another kiss. When their bodies collided, Stiles gasped. He wasn't the only one who was having a party in their pants.

"Whoa. Derek."

Derek's confused expression was comical.

"I'm going to go against every single one of my teenage hormones and tell you that I don't want to have sex tonight."

Derek raised an eyebrow, and Stiles could have sworn he looked offended.

"Not because I don't want you. Because holy shit do I want you inside of me right now. But because I want this to be the real deal. I don't want you to think I'm only in this for the sex. I want you to know I'm in it for you."

Derek took a second before nodding. A small smile, a true smile, formed on his face.

"Will you at least sleep over?" His hand rose and settled on Stiles' cheek. Stiles nuzzled into it, and Derek's thumb rubbed his temple.

"It's three AM. I think I'd break up with you if you sent me home."

"Alright, bed then?"

"Bed then."

He let go of Stiles face and quickly yanked the boy off his feet. He threw him over his shoulder fireman style and headed up the stairs.

"Oh my god what the fuck are you doing? Put me down! Like, right now! Okay wow, this is a great view of your ass, not gonna lie."

Derek snickered. "If I'm going to date you then I'm going to at least try to impress you."

"Oh my god."

He deposited Stiles on the bed. He hesitated for a split second before shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't know how you sleep, but I sleep in my boxers."

He began undressing, right in front of Stiles, and he couldn't help but snicker again on the look of shock on the teens face.

"Bullshit, you're just trying to impress me again."

"And it's working."

"God, you stated that, didn't you? Didn't even put it in a question."

"Are you going to get ready for bed or not?"

Stiles huffed, quickly scrambling to strip down to his boxers.

"Okay don't look yet," Stiles shouted as he quickly dived under the covers of Derek's bed. Once he was sure he was fully covered, he gave the go ahead.

Derek just smirked before tossing the covers back.

"No, no hey what are you doing! Look away!"

"Stiles, stop covering yourself."

Stiles just glared. "It's kind of hard not to when the best six pack I've ever seen, including five plus years of porn, is hovering over me."

"Stop that. Come here." Derek laid back and Stiles begrudgingly slotted up next to him and put his face on his chest.

"Hey now, I just had to spend like an hour dealing with your issues, don't expect for me to not come with some baggage too."

After a few tense moments, Derek sighed.

"I guess that's fair. This is weird."

"I know. I spent a good few months terrified of you. Then I just kind of disliked you. Now I'm sleeping on your chest. And you're a guy. It's all very confusing but I'm okay with it."

"You truly want this to work, don't you."

"Yes, Derek, I do."

"Okay. I…I want to too."

"Okay. No more feelings for one night. I might be gay but I'm starting to really feel like a girl."

"Well whatever is stabbing my leg down there says you are not a girl."

Stiles slaps Derek on the arm before snickering.

"You know what, I'm not even that embarrassed. You do understand that even the sheets are tented from your boner, right?"

"Just trying to impress."

A beat of silence passes before they both burst out laughing.

Derek unconsciously pulls Stiles closer. This may not have been what he was expecting to happen when he heard Stiles bound up his staircase, but he won't lie and admit it was the best possible outcome.

END


End file.
